Setting: The living room is a complete disaster. Pizza boxes and beer cans are scattered everywhere. Terry is sprawled out on the filthy couch in his underwear, farting loudly, staring at the TV like a brain-dead idiot. Sheila, standing by the kitchen counter, lights her 10th cigarette of the day, yelling across the room.

Sheila: (Yelling, voice raspy from chain-smoking) "Terry, you lazy sack of shit, you’re just gonna sit there farting your life away? How about doing something for once, you useless piece of garbage?"

Terry: (Scratching his belly, barely looking away from the TV) "Why don’t you shut the fuck up for five seconds, Sheila? Can’t a man get some goddamn peace in his own house? You bitch about everything. Ain’t like you’re doing shit either."

Sheila: (Coughs violently, pissed off) "Peace?! In this fucking pigsty you call a house? The hell is wrong with you? I gotta do every-fucking-thing around here! I’m one cigarette away from walking out and never coming back!"

Terry: (Shrugs, farting again) "Good. Leave. Do us all a favor, Jesus fucking Christ. Maybe then I won’t have to hear your screechy ass voice every goddamn day."